(for everyone) Dazed and Confused
For: everyone
Title: Dazed and Confused
Genre: sliceoflife!au, romance, comedy, slight angst
Rating: possible future NC-17
Side Pairings (if any): baekyeol
Warnings: [Click to view]swearing, slight homophobic themes, slight abandonment issues
Word Count: 3k/?
Summary: In which Jongin gives Kyungsoo a concussion, and somewhere along the way finds himself unwilling to leave the other behind. Unfortunately, unwilling doesn’t always mean unmoving.
Author's Note: Hey you ;) Firstly, thank you so much to all the mods- you guys have been so great to me, and also just a heads up for readers that this fic WILL be continued and is being written RIGHT NOW! So give it a chance; I’m sure you’ll love what’s to come. We’re just getting started, believe me
Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, and Baekhyun.
Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and Kyungsoo.
You can never say one name without saying the other two, but any way you say it, you have to put Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s names next to each other. It's just how things work.
Which kind of sucks.
But kind of not.
Kyungsoo likes to think of it more as those iconic trios with that third person that everyone loves but just kind of forgets. Like the Jonas Brothers and Kevin, Ross and Rachel and Joey, happiness and joy and the inevitable spiral downwards into despair and depression.
It’s not as bad as you might think, and not nearly as bad as it could be. In the simplest way, his two best friends are in love, and he’s the one they love just a little less. But even so, being Baekhyun and Chanyeol, being loved that little bit less never feels like it.
Kyungsoo can’t remember a time he didn’t have the other two by his side, in his good times and in his absolute worse, through his ups and downs and his lefts and rights and every possible direction in between. It’s the kind of dependability where Baekhyun could be sleeping at four in the morning when Kyungsoo could ask him for a pack of ramen, and he’d get his ass out of bed to give him one. The kind of dependability where Chanyeol won’t bend down in pictures to match his height because he knows it makes Kyungsoo feel even smaller, but he’ll take the time to edit the picture afterwards and make Kyungsoo 6 feet tall.
They’ve celebrated every milestone in Kyungsoo’s life to the extreme- his graduation, his first university acceptance, the first time he had sex, and don’t even get him started on the time party they threw when he first had sex with a guy. They’re the most extraordinarily extra friends that he could possibly ask for, and he makes sure that they know it, but he also makes sure that they know he appreciates every single thing they do for him.
Things like never missing a single birthday, although how could they with Chanyeol’s obsessive need to always be the first to post. Things like buying him his first condom, his first shaver, and admittedly, his first dildo. The most accepting people he knows are the two people that he’s lucky enough to call his best friends, and if someone asked him if he wished his life were different, he’d tell them that they were insane just for asking.
Kyungsoo knows that all in all, he has nothing to complain about, nothing he would ever want to complain about, but there’s still the persistent little corner of his mind that’s always telling him it’s not enough, that he doesn’t want to be the permanent third-wheel, that he should let Chanyeol and Baekhyun move on to the life that they probably would have already started by now were it not for him. The feeling that he’s been clinging onto them for too long, that soon enough they’ll be too busy for him and won’t make the time to see him, that he’s just holding them back from the happiness they deserve to have.
After all, they’ve given him just as much.
He can see it sometimes in the way that their fingers twitch in the other’s direction, itching to touch and hold and explore, but they’re too afraid to make Kyungsoo feel unwanted.
Or the way that he’ll call them with an emergency and they’ll come running to his side, hair slightly mussed and clothes slightly askew, swollen lips asking if he’s okay but never penetrating the guilt he feels for interrupting them.
And he knows that sometimes when Baekhyun and Chanyeol say they’re studying, or that they’re sleeping, that they’re really out on a date, but rarely say anything to him in fear of making him feel like he’s impinging on their relationship.
It’s the worst kind of dilemma, because he knows that he should distance himself, knows that he should give them more time to be alone, but on the other hand a part of him doesn’t want to, because then there’ll be no one left for him. It’s every bit of the truth when he says that Chanyeol and Baekhyun are the only people that matter to him. He has no one else.
So comes the problem where you know what you should do, and you know what you want to do, but there will be times when those two things don’t correspond.
And to put it eloquently, Kyungsoo is having quite a time.
*
“Soo can you pass me the ketchup?”
“You do realize your burger is already practically bleeding artificial tomato juice.”
“So?”
“So, you’ll probably die from ketchup poisoning.”
“Hey, I have a personal freedom and societal right to ingest as much artificial tomato juice as I want to, thank you very much.”
“Never said you didn-”
“Mahatma Gandhi did not fight for civil rights just so you could deny me of mine. Nelson Mandela did not resist South Africa's apartheid system of racial segregation and discrimination so that you could discriminate against my eating preferences. And you know Kyungsoo, Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream... and I have a hamburger. So if you will, kind sir, please pass the ketchup.”
Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.
“Three things. First, that last one was really weak and you know it.” Baekhyun shrugs.
“Second, I’m pretty sure you just offended half of the world’s population- don’t say these things in public where people can hear you. And third... Jesus Christ, here’s your ketchup.”
The bottle slides across the laminated tabletop smoothly, right into Baekhyun’s palm. The blonde picks it up with a little shake and a little smile before dumping another mountain onto his burger, the corners of his lips quirking upwards as the mountain starts sliding off the edge.
Kyungsoo crinkles his nose.
“That is disgusting.”
Baekhyun tilts his head at him. “Stop that. Your face will stick.”
“Stop being my mother.”
“Your mother is Chanyeol, dear child. I’m the daddy.” He winks.
Kyungsoo half-vomits in his mouth, head swiftly coming to bang against the tabletop.
“Oh God that is the worst thing you have ever said please never say that again I don’t want to hear about your freaky sex life with my best friend.”
“I thought I was your best friend!”
“Not anymore you aren’t.”
A hand comes down on the back on Kyungsoo’s head, smacking him none too gently and smushing his face into a mustard stain. He squeaks out indignantly and whips his head back up to be met with a sweetly smiling Baekhyun, looking as if an angel just picked him up from the seventh circle of hell.
“I hate you.”
“Sure you do.”
“I really do.”
“As much as you hate Kim Jongin?”
“What the fuck?”
“Soo.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is.”
Baekhyun sighs, grasping one of Kyungsoo’s now clammy palms in his own. “He is the subject of your wildest gay dreams.”
“I don’t have wild gay dreams Baek.”
“Well you certainly don’t have wild straight dreams.”
“Point taken.”
The blonde shakes his head. “You know Soo, as much as I love sitting in this beaten-up, broken-down burger joint that probably has E.Coli in its burgers, you really need to get your head out of your ass so I can get the fuck out of here.”
Kyungsoo’s frown furthers, because he genuinely has no fucking clue why Baekhyun just brought up Kim freaking Jongin of all people.
They’ve never even met, for god's sake.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The other looks around once, as if checking to see that no one’s listening, and judging as even the kitchen staff seem to have disappeared, Kyungsoo figures they’re safe and tells the blonde just as much. Baekhyun frowns before he suddenly leans into him- way too into him- and whispers almost inaudibly, “I saw you check him out the other day at division finals.”
Kyungsoo sputters and immediately pulls away, eyebrows knitting in confusion and features morphing into an offended expression.
“What the actual fuck?”
The blonde tilts his head, and Kyungsoo can imagine that if they weren’t sitting down his hands would probably be on his hips.
“Don’t lie Soo, you were practically eating him up. You know, I always knew you’d be into the athletic-type.”
Baekhyun leans back in his seat, arms folding over his chest and smirk creeping across his face.
Kyungsoo groans.
“I checked him out for one second, Baek. I didn’t eye fuck him, or whatever the hell you think I did.”
“Sure you did.”
“Really!” Kyungsoo’s eyes widen impossibly, causing a little squeak to come out of the other’s mouth. “It’s not my fault he was wearing basketball shorts!”
“Strange, seeing that he does play basketball.”
“I’m aware.” Kyungsoo mutters miserably.
So maybe Kyungsoo had checked out the cute basketball player in the cute shorts with the body that was anything but cute. As far as he’s concerned, there’s nothing wrong with that, and it doesn’t mean anything either. And maybe he had looked the guy up afterwards, found out his name was Kim Jongin, that he was last year’s MVP for the university’s basketball team and would likely be again this year, that he had three dogs who he loved like children and that in his spare time he liked to watch Pororo, and surprise, play basketball.
It’s a little crush, sure, but that doesn’t involve him having any intentions of ever talking to the other. Kim Jongin will stay separate from his life and unaware of his existence, and he is completely okay with that.
But it would be nice.
“So why don’t you just talk to him?”
God help Byun Baekhyun.
“Well for starters, I know nothing about him.”
“He plays basketball.”
“Yes, and I’m sure that that’s a lasting foundation for what will become our ever-strengthening relationship and our continuously growing bond of love.”
“Hey.” Baekhyun points an accusing finger at the other. “Your sarcasm right there, not appreciating it.”
Kyungsoo sighs.
“Sorry Baek, but really, I’ve never even met the guy. He’s cute yeah, but I don’t think I’m really missing out on much.”
It’s the truth, kind of. He did look unbelievably good in those shorts.
“I think you’re lying.”
“And the witch is all-knowing.”
Baekhyun squints.
“Oh shut up, and take me somewhere better next time you have a gay crisis.”
“You called me Baek.”
“Uh huh. Well either way, you should get his number. Trust me when I say you’re definitely cute enough to be with a guy like him, and you’re for sure his type.”
Kyungsoo snorts, rather attractively too, and rubs his right thumb along the palm of his left hand. “Hate to break it to you, but he’s probably not into guys. Guys that look like that rarely are.”
The blonde sighs sadly agreement. “It’s the gay curse.”
Kyungsoo laughs.
“Sure is.”
*
It’s as cold as motherfucking Alaska on campus right now, and of course, Kyungsoo has no coat.
It’s the age old college kid problem where you think you can tough out anything because you’ve survived multiple exams in one day, but really, not being able to feel your toes is never a pleasant feeling.
So his shirt collar is turned up and shoulders are hunched to his ears, are his nose is so red that he’s surprised he’s not leading a herd of reindeer on Christmas Eve.
He’s making good time though, speeding across campus at the speed of a very tired 21 year old, closer and closer and closer to his dorm. All he has to do is pass by the engineering buildings, then one of the cafeterias, then of course, the basketball courts.
Recently whenever he walks past the cemented courts he feels his head half-twinge sideways, wanting to see if the cute basketball boy is practicing, but he never is, because it’s cold as tits in October this year.
Although, it could very possibly be the best thing on the planet to see him all rosey-cheeked and foggy-breathed.
Today is no different it seems, as he rounds the corner of the East Campus caf and feels his heartbeat begin to pick up for no specific reason. It’s only biological, he tells himself, that his body would react this way to someone as attractive as Jongin. Hot people make hot babies and that’s just scientific fact, not that he could have one anyways, obviously.
He’s already prepared himself for the disappointment of an empty court and reluctantly turns his head back to tuck his chin into his chest, but not before he sees a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye.
And holy mother of god, is that flicker beautiful.
Before him lies a very hot, very sweaty Kim Jongin, running back and forth along the court and scoring on himself repeatedly, dressed in a quarter-zip and leggings covered by his trademark basketball shorts. His breath comes out in little white puffs of air, and if Kyungsoo listens closely he can hear the exhales that match Jongin’s every footstep.
The taller seems to stop for a moment, almost as if something is wrong, before shaking his head and spinning the ball in his palm. And as he catches his breath Kyungsoo gets the distinct feeling that he should move along and not blatantly stare at a stranger, but then again… he really doesn’t want to.
Jongin picks back up again right where he left off, leaving Kyungsoo with his breath catching in his throat as he stares at the solid concentration painting the other’s features.
It’s the kind of awe-inspiring beauty that comes when you see thousands upon thousands of people marching for what they believe is right, or when a kid finally stands up to their bullies and shows them what really makes a person strong. The kind of fascination that comes from being so incredibly passionate about something that nothing else in the world matters.
Kyungsoo can tell all of this just from the way Jongin never loses focus on the net, from the way his breathing resonates louder in the air than his runners against the concrete- and to him, it’s kind of amazing.
So amazing in fact, that he almost doesn’t notice when Jongin suddenly seems to be staring right at him, right through his soul, and there is the slightest possibility that Baekhyun could be right about the wild gay dreams thing.
He seems to be shouting something too, but Kyungsoo can’t hear over the pounding in his ears because holy fuck, Kim Jongin just noticed him.
It feels like he just got noticed by the the President of the United States himself, which is a funny comparison really, because he doesn’t even-
Oh.
Kyungsoo is on the ground.
Why is he on the ground?
He can’t hear anything either.
Why are his ears ringing so loudly?
It feels like his entire body just went numb but then again,
Why can’t he feel any sensation at all?
And oh hey, that’s Jongin standing over him.
Oh?
Kyungsoo can’t make out much, what with all the buzzing sounds and black spots dotting his vision, but he thinks that he sees Jongin’s lips moving. Which is a gorgeous thing on its own, mind you, but they seem to moving rather quickly for someone trying to make casual conversation.
If that is what he’s doing.
But probably not, because people like Kim Jongin don’t make attempts at casual conversation with people like Do Kyungsoo.
“Hey! Hey! Are you alright? Holy shit I am so sorry I didn’t even see you there, fuck fuck fuck I hit you so hard.”
Hit?
Hard?
That doesn’t make sense, because Jongin didn’t-
Wait.
Holy shit.
Kyungsoo just got hit in the face by Kim Jongin.
This is so fucking awesome.
“Are you alright? Shit he’s not responding- he’s probably dead- I have to call an ambulance- where the fuck is my phone?!”
“Shhhhh.” Kyungsoo intones, hand flopping up in an attempt to make a shushing gesture, because Jesus why is Jongin yelling so much?
“Crap you’re alive! Are you okay? I am so, so sorry I didn’t mean to hit you I just-”
“King Jongin?”
Well there you go.
In his defense, there are currently too many butterflies flying around inside Kyungsoo’s head for him to form coherent thoughts and make good social decisions. In fact, he feels kind of sick, and the spots momentarily well up in the corners of his eyes before calming down again.
“I think I hit you pretty hard.”
Kim Jongin is very good at stating the obvious.
“Here, let me help you up. We need to get you to a doctor.”
“A doctor?”
“Yeah, you have a bit of a bump on your head.”
Jongin reaches out to brush his fingers over said bump, and while it feels like every magical feeling in the world combined into one, it also feels like someone just nailed a jackhammer into Kyungsoo’s head and set it on high-power continuous.
He winces pretty visibly, which Jongin immediately notices and retracts his hand, mumbling out another string of apologies that Kyungsoo can’t really hear.
“I’m going to lift you up now.”
Kyungsoo then feels a pair of pleasantly broad hands dip under his knees upper abdomen, pulling him upwards and into the air, giving him the awful sensation that he is flying in a void with no meaning of space or time.
“Hey, hey, stay with me okay? I think you have a concussion, and it’s really important that you stay- with- me. Alright?”
Kyungsoo gives the best fuzzy smile he can at this point, because it feels really nice to have Kim Jongin taking care of him. He half wonders if Jongin will still be there when he wakes up, but for now, he’ll take what he can get.
And he does try, really, to keep his eyes open, because Jongin asked him to and he’s pretty sure that when someone offers to take you to the hospital, you’re supposed to listen to what they say.
But sleep is calling him, or maybe it’s a coma, and as much as he wants neither and to just continue looking at the blurry image of Jongin’s face, it feels like his brain is slowly shriveling.
The last thing he remembers before passing out is Jongin’s warm breath on his nose and the heat from his body seeping through their minimal combined layers and into Kyungsoo.
It’s a nice feeling.
Title: Dazed and Confused
Genre: sliceoflife!au, romance, comedy, slight angst
Rating: possible future NC-17
Side Pairings (if any): baekyeol
Warnings: [Click to view]swearing, slight homophobic themes, slight abandonment issues
Word Count: 3k/?
Summary: In which Jongin gives Kyungsoo a concussion, and somewhere along the way finds himself unwilling to leave the other behind. Unfortunately, unwilling doesn’t always mean unmoving.
Author's Note: Hey you ;) Firstly, thank you so much to all the mods- you guys have been so great to me, and also just a heads up for readers that this fic WILL be continued and is being written RIGHT NOW! So give it a chance; I’m sure you’ll love what’s to come. We’re just getting started, believe me
Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, and Baekhyun.
Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and Kyungsoo.
You can never say one name without saying the other two, but any way you say it, you have to put Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s names next to each other. It's just how things work.
Which kind of sucks.
But kind of not.
Kyungsoo likes to think of it more as those iconic trios with that third person that everyone loves but just kind of forgets. Like the Jonas Brothers and Kevin, Ross and Rachel and Joey, happiness and joy and the inevitable spiral downwards into despair and depression.
It’s not as bad as you might think, and not nearly as bad as it could be. In the simplest way, his two best friends are in love, and he’s the one they love just a little less. But even so, being Baekhyun and Chanyeol, being loved that little bit less never feels like it.
Kyungsoo can’t remember a time he didn’t have the other two by his side, in his good times and in his absolute worse, through his ups and downs and his lefts and rights and every possible direction in between. It’s the kind of dependability where Baekhyun could be sleeping at four in the morning when Kyungsoo could ask him for a pack of ramen, and he’d get his ass out of bed to give him one. The kind of dependability where Chanyeol won’t bend down in pictures to match his height because he knows it makes Kyungsoo feel even smaller, but he’ll take the time to edit the picture afterwards and make Kyungsoo 6 feet tall.
They’ve celebrated every milestone in Kyungsoo’s life to the extreme- his graduation, his first university acceptance, the first time he had sex, and don’t even get him started on the time party they threw when he first had sex with a guy. They’re the most extraordinarily extra friends that he could possibly ask for, and he makes sure that they know it, but he also makes sure that they know he appreciates every single thing they do for him.
Things like never missing a single birthday, although how could they with Chanyeol’s obsessive need to always be the first to post. Things like buying him his first condom, his first shaver, and admittedly, his first dildo. The most accepting people he knows are the two people that he’s lucky enough to call his best friends, and if someone asked him if he wished his life were different, he’d tell them that they were insane just for asking.
Kyungsoo knows that all in all, he has nothing to complain about, nothing he would ever want to complain about, but there’s still the persistent little corner of his mind that’s always telling him it’s not enough, that he doesn’t want to be the permanent third-wheel, that he should let Chanyeol and Baekhyun move on to the life that they probably would have already started by now were it not for him. The feeling that he’s been clinging onto them for too long, that soon enough they’ll be too busy for him and won’t make the time to see him, that he’s just holding them back from the happiness they deserve to have.
After all, they’ve given him just as much.
He can see it sometimes in the way that their fingers twitch in the other’s direction, itching to touch and hold and explore, but they’re too afraid to make Kyungsoo feel unwanted.
Or the way that he’ll call them with an emergency and they’ll come running to his side, hair slightly mussed and clothes slightly askew, swollen lips asking if he’s okay but never penetrating the guilt he feels for interrupting them.
And he knows that sometimes when Baekhyun and Chanyeol say they’re studying, or that they’re sleeping, that they’re really out on a date, but rarely say anything to him in fear of making him feel like he’s impinging on their relationship.
It’s the worst kind of dilemma, because he knows that he should distance himself, knows that he should give them more time to be alone, but on the other hand a part of him doesn’t want to, because then there’ll be no one left for him. It’s every bit of the truth when he says that Chanyeol and Baekhyun are the only people that matter to him. He has no one else.
So comes the problem where you know what you should do, and you know what you want to do, but there will be times when those two things don’t correspond.
And to put it eloquently, Kyungsoo is having quite a time.
*
“Soo can you pass me the ketchup?”
“You do realize your burger is already practically bleeding artificial tomato juice.”
“So?”
“So, you’ll probably die from ketchup poisoning.”
“Hey, I have a personal freedom and societal right to ingest as much artificial tomato juice as I want to, thank you very much.”
“Never said you didn-”
“Mahatma Gandhi did not fight for civil rights just so you could deny me of mine. Nelson Mandela did not resist South Africa's apartheid system of racial segregation and discrimination so that you could discriminate against my eating preferences. And you know Kyungsoo, Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream... and I have a hamburger. So if you will, kind sir, please pass the ketchup.”
Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.
“Three things. First, that last one was really weak and you know it.” Baekhyun shrugs.
“Second, I’m pretty sure you just offended half of the world’s population- don’t say these things in public where people can hear you. And third... Jesus Christ, here’s your ketchup.”
The bottle slides across the laminated tabletop smoothly, right into Baekhyun’s palm. The blonde picks it up with a little shake and a little smile before dumping another mountain onto his burger, the corners of his lips quirking upwards as the mountain starts sliding off the edge.
Kyungsoo crinkles his nose.
“That is disgusting.”
Baekhyun tilts his head at him. “Stop that. Your face will stick.”
“Stop being my mother.”
“Your mother is Chanyeol, dear child. I’m the daddy.” He winks.
Kyungsoo half-vomits in his mouth, head swiftly coming to bang against the tabletop.
“Oh God that is the worst thing you have ever said please never say that again I don’t want to hear about your freaky sex life with my best friend.”
“I thought I was your best friend!”
“Not anymore you aren’t.”
A hand comes down on the back on Kyungsoo’s head, smacking him none too gently and smushing his face into a mustard stain. He squeaks out indignantly and whips his head back up to be met with a sweetly smiling Baekhyun, looking as if an angel just picked him up from the seventh circle of hell.
“I hate you.”
“Sure you do.”
“I really do.”
“As much as you hate Kim Jongin?”
“What the fuck?”
“Soo.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is.”
Baekhyun sighs, grasping one of Kyungsoo’s now clammy palms in his own. “He is the subject of your wildest gay dreams.”
“I don’t have wild gay dreams Baek.”
“Well you certainly don’t have wild straight dreams.”
“Point taken.”
The blonde shakes his head. “You know Soo, as much as I love sitting in this beaten-up, broken-down burger joint that probably has E.Coli in its burgers, you really need to get your head out of your ass so I can get the fuck out of here.”
Kyungsoo’s frown furthers, because he genuinely has no fucking clue why Baekhyun just brought up Kim freaking Jongin of all people.
They’ve never even met, for god's sake.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The other looks around once, as if checking to see that no one’s listening, and judging as even the kitchen staff seem to have disappeared, Kyungsoo figures they’re safe and tells the blonde just as much. Baekhyun frowns before he suddenly leans into him- way too into him- and whispers almost inaudibly, “I saw you check him out the other day at division finals.”
Kyungsoo sputters and immediately pulls away, eyebrows knitting in confusion and features morphing into an offended expression.
“What the actual fuck?”
The blonde tilts his head, and Kyungsoo can imagine that if they weren’t sitting down his hands would probably be on his hips.
“Don’t lie Soo, you were practically eating him up. You know, I always knew you’d be into the athletic-type.”
Baekhyun leans back in his seat, arms folding over his chest and smirk creeping across his face.
Kyungsoo groans.
“I checked him out for one second, Baek. I didn’t eye fuck him, or whatever the hell you think I did.”
“Sure you did.”
“Really!” Kyungsoo’s eyes widen impossibly, causing a little squeak to come out of the other’s mouth. “It’s not my fault he was wearing basketball shorts!”
“Strange, seeing that he does play basketball.”
“I’m aware.” Kyungsoo mutters miserably.
So maybe Kyungsoo had checked out the cute basketball player in the cute shorts with the body that was anything but cute. As far as he’s concerned, there’s nothing wrong with that, and it doesn’t mean anything either. And maybe he had looked the guy up afterwards, found out his name was Kim Jongin, that he was last year’s MVP for the university’s basketball team and would likely be again this year, that he had three dogs who he loved like children and that in his spare time he liked to watch Pororo, and surprise, play basketball.
It’s a little crush, sure, but that doesn’t involve him having any intentions of ever talking to the other. Kim Jongin will stay separate from his life and unaware of his existence, and he is completely okay with that.
But it would be nice.
“So why don’t you just talk to him?”
God help Byun Baekhyun.
“Well for starters, I know nothing about him.”
“He plays basketball.”
“Yes, and I’m sure that that’s a lasting foundation for what will become our ever-strengthening relationship and our continuously growing bond of love.”
“Hey.” Baekhyun points an accusing finger at the other. “Your sarcasm right there, not appreciating it.”
Kyungsoo sighs.
“Sorry Baek, but really, I’ve never even met the guy. He’s cute yeah, but I don’t think I’m really missing out on much.”
It’s the truth, kind of. He did look unbelievably good in those shorts.
“I think you’re lying.”
“And the witch is all-knowing.”
Baekhyun squints.
“Oh shut up, and take me somewhere better next time you have a gay crisis.”
“You called me Baek.”
“Uh huh. Well either way, you should get his number. Trust me when I say you’re definitely cute enough to be with a guy like him, and you’re for sure his type.”
Kyungsoo snorts, rather attractively too, and rubs his right thumb along the palm of his left hand. “Hate to break it to you, but he’s probably not into guys. Guys that look like that rarely are.”
The blonde sighs sadly agreement. “It’s the gay curse.”
Kyungsoo laughs.
“Sure is.”
*
It’s as cold as motherfucking Alaska on campus right now, and of course, Kyungsoo has no coat.
It’s the age old college kid problem where you think you can tough out anything because you’ve survived multiple exams in one day, but really, not being able to feel your toes is never a pleasant feeling.
So his shirt collar is turned up and shoulders are hunched to his ears, are his nose is so red that he’s surprised he’s not leading a herd of reindeer on Christmas Eve.
He’s making good time though, speeding across campus at the speed of a very tired 21 year old, closer and closer and closer to his dorm. All he has to do is pass by the engineering buildings, then one of the cafeterias, then of course, the basketball courts.
Recently whenever he walks past the cemented courts he feels his head half-twinge sideways, wanting to see if the cute basketball boy is practicing, but he never is, because it’s cold as tits in October this year.
Although, it could very possibly be the best thing on the planet to see him all rosey-cheeked and foggy-breathed.
Today is no different it seems, as he rounds the corner of the East Campus caf and feels his heartbeat begin to pick up for no specific reason. It’s only biological, he tells himself, that his body would react this way to someone as attractive as Jongin. Hot people make hot babies and that’s just scientific fact, not that he could have one anyways, obviously.
He’s already prepared himself for the disappointment of an empty court and reluctantly turns his head back to tuck his chin into his chest, but not before he sees a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye.
And holy mother of god, is that flicker beautiful.
Before him lies a very hot, very sweaty Kim Jongin, running back and forth along the court and scoring on himself repeatedly, dressed in a quarter-zip and leggings covered by his trademark basketball shorts. His breath comes out in little white puffs of air, and if Kyungsoo listens closely he can hear the exhales that match Jongin’s every footstep.
The taller seems to stop for a moment, almost as if something is wrong, before shaking his head and spinning the ball in his palm. And as he catches his breath Kyungsoo gets the distinct feeling that he should move along and not blatantly stare at a stranger, but then again… he really doesn’t want to.
Jongin picks back up again right where he left off, leaving Kyungsoo with his breath catching in his throat as he stares at the solid concentration painting the other’s features.
It’s the kind of awe-inspiring beauty that comes when you see thousands upon thousands of people marching for what they believe is right, or when a kid finally stands up to their bullies and shows them what really makes a person strong. The kind of fascination that comes from being so incredibly passionate about something that nothing else in the world matters.
Kyungsoo can tell all of this just from the way Jongin never loses focus on the net, from the way his breathing resonates louder in the air than his runners against the concrete- and to him, it’s kind of amazing.
So amazing in fact, that he almost doesn’t notice when Jongin suddenly seems to be staring right at him, right through his soul, and there is the slightest possibility that Baekhyun could be right about the wild gay dreams thing.
He seems to be shouting something too, but Kyungsoo can’t hear over the pounding in his ears because holy fuck, Kim Jongin just noticed him.
It feels like he just got noticed by the the President of the United States himself, which is a funny comparison really, because he doesn’t even-
Oh.
Kyungsoo is on the ground.
Why is he on the ground?
He can’t hear anything either.
Why are his ears ringing so loudly?
It feels like his entire body just went numb but then again,
Why can’t he feel any sensation at all?
And oh hey, that’s Jongin standing over him.
Oh?
Kyungsoo can’t make out much, what with all the buzzing sounds and black spots dotting his vision, but he thinks that he sees Jongin’s lips moving. Which is a gorgeous thing on its own, mind you, but they seem to moving rather quickly for someone trying to make casual conversation.
If that is what he’s doing.
But probably not, because people like Kim Jongin don’t make attempts at casual conversation with people like Do Kyungsoo.
“Hey! Hey! Are you alright? Holy shit I am so sorry I didn’t even see you there, fuck fuck fuck I hit you so hard.”
Hit?
Hard?
That doesn’t make sense, because Jongin didn’t-
Wait.
Holy shit.
Kyungsoo just got hit in the face by Kim Jongin.
This is so fucking awesome.
“Are you alright? Shit he’s not responding- he’s probably dead- I have to call an ambulance- where the fuck is my phone?!”
“Shhhhh.” Kyungsoo intones, hand flopping up in an attempt to make a shushing gesture, because Jesus why is Jongin yelling so much?
“Crap you’re alive! Are you okay? I am so, so sorry I didn’t mean to hit you I just-”
“King Jongin?”
Well there you go.
In his defense, there are currently too many butterflies flying around inside Kyungsoo’s head for him to form coherent thoughts and make good social decisions. In fact, he feels kind of sick, and the spots momentarily well up in the corners of his eyes before calming down again.
“I think I hit you pretty hard.”
Kim Jongin is very good at stating the obvious.
“Here, let me help you up. We need to get you to a doctor.”
“A doctor?”
“Yeah, you have a bit of a bump on your head.”
Jongin reaches out to brush his fingers over said bump, and while it feels like every magical feeling in the world combined into one, it also feels like someone just nailed a jackhammer into Kyungsoo’s head and set it on high-power continuous.
He winces pretty visibly, which Jongin immediately notices and retracts his hand, mumbling out another string of apologies that Kyungsoo can’t really hear.
“I’m going to lift you up now.”
Kyungsoo then feels a pair of pleasantly broad hands dip under his knees upper abdomen, pulling him upwards and into the air, giving him the awful sensation that he is flying in a void with no meaning of space or time.
“Hey, hey, stay with me okay? I think you have a concussion, and it’s really important that you stay- with- me. Alright?”
Kyungsoo gives the best fuzzy smile he can at this point, because it feels really nice to have Kim Jongin taking care of him. He half wonders if Jongin will still be there when he wakes up, but for now, he’ll take what he can get.
And he does try, really, to keep his eyes open, because Jongin asked him to and he’s pretty sure that when someone offers to take you to the hospital, you’re supposed to listen to what they say.
But sleep is calling him, or maybe it’s a coma, and as much as he wants neither and to just continue looking at the blurry image of Jongin’s face, it feels like his brain is slowly shriveling.
The last thing he remembers before passing out is Jongin’s warm breath on his nose and the heat from his body seeping through their minimal combined layers and into Kyungsoo.
It’s a nice feeling.